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Battletech meets Jurasic Park
by Demun God |
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"All units! Converge on Boyle Street!" Lieutenant Colonel Moore yelled from the cockpit of his WR-DG-02FC War Dog. He pushed his 75-ton ride as far as he dared go, without losing control and smashing into one Graham City's multi-leveled office buildings or downtown apartment complexes. Right behind him was a 70-ton Guillotine, keeping pace. Under his neurohelmet, Moore gritted his teeth. He was going to get this pain in the butt, if it was the last thing he did. After all, he was just some dumb local cop with a Mech. Unfortunately, he was a dumb local cop with military experience and an 85-ton assault Mech for a ride. Everything was just fine though; Moore had the numbers. MacAllister may be able to take out a few of his Mechs, but there's no way he'd be able to take out a whole company. Not even the most experienced Atlas pilot could do that, and that was a 100-ton monstrosity. One more turn, and he'd be near Boyle Street. Running his Mech down 22nd Street, he turned onto Boyle Street and saw the piles of wreckage.
Six other Mechs joined him at the T-Intersection of Boyle and 22nd Streets. Moore slammed his gloved fist onto his primary monitor display, causing a crack in the screen, "Dammit! Where the hell is he! Did any of you see him!" Moore yelled into the communication speaker, built into his helmet.
Seven replies were in the negative.
"He's got to be here somewhere! An assault Mech can't just disappear! Knock over every damn trashcan if you have to! Find him!"
The six Mechs soon departed, while a boiling Colonel Moore hammer-punched his display again.
"Colonel Moore," Major Angela Davies radioed in, "We have captured a rebel. He has the Graham City police rank of Sergeant-Senior-Grade."
Moore perked up at that. Sergeant-Senior-Grade was one of the highest ranks in the police force, "What is your location, Major."
"I'm on 24th and White Swan Drive."
"Good hold him until I arrive."
Switching to a private frequency directed torwards the Guillotine, Moore smiled, "Lieutenant, I think you are about to be reacquainted with an old friend."
The two heavy Mechs walked down 22nd Street and crossed over to 24th. Seeing the smoking, crumpled remains of a police car on its side, surrounded by Major Davies' armored troopers, brought a smile to Lieutenant James Sheraton's face. He would get the information from the Senior-Grade, if he had to beat the hell out of him, to get it.
The two metal giants came to a halt less than twenty meters away. Before the two MechWarriors dismounted, they threw on a jumpsuit to cover their skimpy clothing, due to the heat that could cook a pilot alive from the movement and weapons fire generated from the fusion engines that powered the BattleMechs.
Two Mobile Fire troopers held up a bloodied Raymond Blackstone, as Moore and Sheraton approached. Blackstone's vision cleared as he struggled to look out of swollen eyes. It was clear that the mercenary troopers had gotten a little of their aggression out on the police officer.
Between difficult breaths, Blackstone managed to mumbled, "Sh-Sheraton,…"
Sheraton raised his hands outward and smiled mockingly, "In the flesh!"
Blackstone simply shook his head as he refused to believe what was happening. Donovan had even gotten with Blackstone a few times to discuss honorable burial services for Police Sergeant Sheraton. The strength started to infiltrate back into Raymond Blackstone's body, but not even the 300-pounder could summon enough strength to fight off a platoon of armed combat soldiers.
Sheraton walked up to the big man, and stated, "Tell us where MacAllister is, or will kill you. It's as simple as that."
Blackstone gritted his teeth, fresh blood from his bruised lips turning them a dull pink, "You took the oath, Officer. Do you realize what you have done?"
Sheraton laughed, "Are you serious!" He held out his arms, "Look around you, man! This is not a 'normal day in the neighborhood'. This planet has changed hands, Blackstone. The times have changed for this planet. This planet is under new jurisdiction now…the jurisdiction of the Lyran Alliance and its Archon, Katrina Steiner. You have no rights now, because in the eyes of the armed forces under this planet's rightful ruler, you are supporting a rebellion. Under wartime laws, I could shoot you where you stand."
"But you wouldn't,…"Blackstone goaded. "You wouldn't ruin a chance to beat your only rival on this planet, from making you the number one fighter here. You still think you have to beat me again, before you actually declare yourself the number one." Blackstone half-smiled, "If you shoot me, you'll never know. You'll have won the cheap way."
Moore knew Blackstone was getting under Sheraton's skin, but wanted to see how far it would go. To see if he could gage the mentality of these two men, one a former police officer, one who considered himself a current police officer, and thereby get some kind of comparison to the mentality of the rest of the Graham City Police Department.
Sheraton's mockingly jovial face turned to anger, "Blackstone, I have beaten you before, and I would beat you again. After last year's Fisticuff's Tournament, you were lucky to be able to return to duty."
Blackstone countered, "But, the year before that, who was in the hospital with a broken arm and leg?"
With that, Sheraton jumped over to Blackstone, then side-kicked him squarely in the stomach. The force ripped him away from the two troopers' grips, as he doubled over and stumbled backwards, grunting and coughing,
"You're lucky I don't put you in the hospital right now!" Sheraton screamed in his face.
"OK, that's enough!" Moore put himself between the burly police sergeant and the muscular MechWarrior.
Moore then turned to fully face Blackstone, and lowering on his haunches, Moore brought himself down to be face to face with the still doubled-over officer, "His is right, ya know. Any one of us could shoot you right now and be done with it. Look, save yourself. Tell us what MacAllister is trying to do. If you tell us, we'll only hold you as a prisoner of war, to be turned over to the appropriate Free Worlds authorities when the time comes. Think about it. You'd be celebrated as a war hero returning home. Honor parades, promotions. What do you say?" Moore was smiling, trying to make the deal sound as sweet as possible.
Blackstone met Moore's smile with a smile of his own, then spit a big wad of saliva mixed with blood right in his eye. Moore jerked back, wiping the blood-spit off his face with the back of his gloved hand. Without any indication, Moore reared back his right fist and smashed Blackstone on the left side of the jaw, knocking a tooth out and loosing a few more. The blow sent the big man reeling to the ground. Blackstone struggled to get to his feet when Moore turned his back, and started walking back to his War Dog, "Sheraton, shoot him."
In one smooth motion, Sheraton unholstered his slug-thrower, aimed it at Blackstone and shot him squarely in the forehead. Raymond Blackstone's eyes went straight up, as his body fell straight onto its back. Within seconds, blood starting pooling at the back of his head. As Moore continued to walk to his Mech, he yelled, "In my initial transmission to this rock, I said 'all resistance would be met with swift and deadly force'! I meant that! This planet belongs to the Archon now! No backwater police department is going to break it away! You could have the Captain-General of the Free Worlds League himself, leading it, it will not happen! All MechWarriors form on me! All troops to your vehicles! It's time we become the hunters!"
Sheraton took one more look at Blackstone, "Looks like I win, you stupid cop."
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Donovan brought his Mech into the barn, as policemen armed with shoulder-fired rocket launchers covered his approach and entrance. The sentries then continued their normal short-range perimeter patrols.
Donovan donned on a MechWarrior's jumpsuit then quickly descended the chain ladder, "Randy, where's Ray?"
The tall, lanky Cicada MechWarrior drew himself away from a map he'd been studying and started walking over to Donovan, "I don't know. I thought he was with you?"
Concern washed over Donovan's face, "We got separated. I was about to get surrounded by enemy Mechs. Last I heard, Ray said some heavy armor was moving into the area."
Before MechOfficer Randall Beaseley could respond, someone shouted, "Mech approaching. It's the Spider! Three cruiser trailing!"
The barn's huge hangar-bay-like doors swung open as the Mech and three vehicles moved in. Donovan saw Genetics Scientist Tezra Alexander with a smile bigger than her face could possible hold, as she jumped out of the car, "We didit! We have our knock-out drug!"
Donovan also smiled, "That's great, Ms. Alexander. Now that that's been taken care of, we can focus on the main subject, getting these mercs off our planet!"
The speakers crackled on radio-monitoring systems, "Lieutenant MacAllister, this is LP-2. We have heavy movement headed directly toward your position. I count at least two companies of armored vehicles with approximately six Mechs coming in behind them. Doesn't look like their messing around this time, sir.
Most of the armor is heavy stuff. Demolishers, Ontos', and the like."
"Roger that, LP-2. You know what to do. Blow your traps, and bug out."
Roger that, out."
The lead vehicle in the armor column was a brand new second generation Demolisher, with its two heavy autocannons, one shooting cluster rounds, while the other fired off ammunition at twice the rate of a normal autocannon, this was a deadly machine. The heavy jungle on both sides of the dirt road forced the armor into one long line, followed at the rear by the Mechs. LP-2 waited nervously, as the Demolisher moved into the kill zone. Seconds later, the nose of the 100-ton tank dip down, as if the ground had been pulled out from under it, which in essence, it had. Before the crew could reverse the treads, the tank stumbled over the edge, and fell nose first into the bottom of the pit. When the turret and nose slammed into the bottom of the huge pit, the momentum of the tank carried it over, slamming down on its roof. The high-explosive mines laid there didn't help.
As the armor column stopped to access the situation, the three-man cell known as Listening Post-2, fired Inferno rockets at the two tanks directly behind the pit. The Inferno rockets exploded, but instead of creating physical damage through kinetic and explosive energies, the rockets had exploded before they got to their intended target, spraying white-hot plasma across and over the vehicles. Those two vehicles needed to be as cool as possible since most of their weapons were energy weapons, which created enough heat on their own, without the added BBQ, that was now taking place across the sides and tops. The crews jumped out, as the plasma started eating through the armor.
"Push them in the pit!" someone yelled.
Meanwhile some machine guns started spraying the surrounding jungles, trying to take out their unseen attackers. All they proceeded in doing was making some firewood out of some Guiasar Red Pines.
Moore looked out using his Mech's optical sensors, "Hurry up! Push them out of the way!"
The fourth vehicle in line, 95-ton Alacorn Mk VI Heavy Tank rammed one of the flaming vehicles into the pit, while shoving the other into the roadside trees, uprooting a few in the process.
"Come on! Move out!" Moore yelled.
Major Angela Davies commanded her tank driver to press on. The three Gauss Rifles fixed into the Alacorn's turret made it one of the most deadly, if not the deadliest armored vehicle in existence.
"LP-2 has flown the coop!"
"Roger that." Donovan responded. "OK, folks, all non-essentials please take your leave!"
Some of the younger people and civilian employees piled into a few of the remaining police cars and drove out the back, heading northwest. With the knowledge that almost the entire mercenary force was heading torwards their present location, they figured that most of the city had been cleared out. In fact, the most damaged vehicles were left behind to help defend the spaceport, and particularly, the mercenaries' DropShip. Without the DropShip, the mercenaries would become stranded, and have to wait until picked up by other units within mobile Fire, or have to pay extra for a trip home. The latter would not go well with the units overall commander.
"You ready for this, Randy?" Donovan asked, making his way to his Mech.
Randy looked back incredulously, "Do I have a choice!"
Donovan smiled, "Not really. Just pretend it's a simulator!"
Randy stopped for a second, "Yeah right…a simulator."
MechOfficer Crystal Robinson was already in her Spider, waiting for orders to move out.
"Mech-3 online and waiting," she radioed in.
"Roger that, Mech-3. Mech-1 online." Donovan announced.
MechOfficer Randall Beaseley was a few seconds behind, "Mech-2 online.""Let's go out and welcome our guests."
The 85-ton Stalker was followed out by the 40-ton Cicada and the 30-ton Spider. From long-range, the Mechs had just cleared the barn, when three silvery blurs slammed into its side, splintering wood and sending chunks of wooden beams spinning into oblivion. Donovan targeted the leading vehicle with his ER large laser and tied his NARC missile beacon into the same firing stud. When his electronic cross-hairs pulsed gold, he squeezed the trigger. The ruby-red beam burned a deep black gash across the Alacorn's front sloping armor, as the NARC beacon thudded onto the left side and stuck there thanks to power magnets. The beacon served as a homing device for friendly missiles. Basically, with the NARC in place, more missiles would hit the target, than if the missile packs were just normally fired.
"Mech-2 and -3. Cover my sides, watch for flankers. They may have infantry roaming through the trees."
Affirmatives were sent as the lighter Mechs moved into position.
Unfortunately, that also opened them up to incoming fire. The surrounding jungle made Mech movement difficult, with the three police Mechs clustered together. This made them easy meat for the latest edition of the Long-Range Missile Carrier. The 80-ton missile carrier continuously rocked back slightly, as missile after long-range missile was launched. White-yellow exhausts flashed at the rear the vehicle with each launching. The three Mechs were engulfed in a deadly serenade of explosions, as missiles impacted against them, and all around them.Donovan only had enough time to brace for impact, as an instant after his missile warning blared, his Mech was racked with impacts. Donovan was bounced around under his criss-crossed shoulder restraints, as missiles impacted all over. Warning buzzers drilled into Donovan's ear. He glanced at his damage indicator, which showed most of his armor in the yellow, but a few spots in the red.
Donovan heard Crystal scream, as her Mech disintegrated under the barrage. When the smoke cleared, the little Spider was a mangled heap of wreckage, sprawled out on the ground.
Randy gritted his teeth, as his Cicada only faired slightly better, "Sir, my armor has been shredded! One more hit, and I'm done!"
That one vehicle had reduced Donovan's defense to nothing with one firing. Realizing he had nothing left, Donovan opened a general communications frequency, "Colonel Donald Moore. Let it be known, that if you or any of your forces move an inch closer, you will become permanent residents of Guiasar. I may not be able to stop you, but the people will rise up, and you and all of your men will be killed. I would advise, you load onto your DropShip immediately, and never come back to Guiasar again."
The approaching tank forces came to a stop, as laughter filled the airways, "Are you serious MacAllister? Your back is to the wall, you have no where to go. You're just as good as dead. I think this is the part where you say anything possible, to make us back away."
"Really? Ya think so?"
Donovan stayed on the same open frequency, "Vicki, if you please?"
"Aye, aye, sir."
A second later, there was a huge explosion from the direction of the spaceport.
Moore jumped on a private frequency, "Jackhammer! Jackhammer! Do you read!"
"This is Captain Clark! We just had another terrorist attack on the spaceport. A cargo storage facility just went up in flames!"
Moore yelled, "Stand down! I'm looking at the terrorist!"
"Is everything-…"
"This is Moore, out." Moore didn't have time to explain to the DropShip Captain what was going on.
Donovan's voice came back onto the general frequency, "Colonel Moore. That was a warning. The next one will be your DropShip."
Donovan flicked over to a private frequency, "Randy, start backing away. I have a feeling this won't turn out good, any way we handle this."
Randy looked at the heavy armor column, as the six Mechs backing them up, seemed to stand guard in the distance, "Ya think?" he said incredulously.
"Move, Officer Beaseley."
"Aye, aye."
The battered Cicada started moving backwards, quaking with every step, due to heavy gyrostabilizer damage. Bits and pieces of mangled armor, caused by the heavy missile barrage, broke loose with each stuttering step.
Laughter filled the airways again, as Moore addressed Police MechOfficer
Lieutenant Donovan MacAllister, "Hey, MacAllister. I don't think it would be wise for you to blow up my DropShip, unless you want fifty Graham City residents' deaths on your head."
"What are you talking about. Have you taken to using civilian as humans shields?"
"The rebels that we rounded up are not civilized. Fighting against this planet's rightful ruler is treasonous. They will be tried and shot under wartime laws, as soon as we deal with you. They are currently being held on the Jackhammer until that time comes."
Donovan cut his part of the communications off, "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Just one break! One single break!"
Donovan prepared for the heat wave that was about to wash over him, then fired off his LRM's, SRM's, and ER Large Laser. What weapons didn't hit the front of the Alacorn landed directly in front, throwing up a huge wall of dirt. The laser beam dug another furrow into the thick front of the tank, as missiles exploded against, spraying bits of armor in all directions. The police officer started back-pedaling his Mech as he braced for the counter attack that would come. He only had milli-seconds to wait, as the three silvery projectiles from the Alacorn blasted through the smoke and fire. One projectile slammed into the Stalker's leg, causing Donovan to fight the controls to stay on his feet. The second nickel-ferrous-made round slammed into the big Stalker's chest. Donovan's head snapped back from the impact. The fire from Donovan's Mech stopped the armor column from advancing, momentarily. Donovan was able to turn his Mech around and bring it up to a trot, or as fast as an 85-ton piece of metal could move. The Stalker ran around the remains of the collapsed barn, then barreled through the jungle, leaving the flattened dirt road behind.
"After him!" Moore yelled.
"Colonel, my tanks cannot make it through this jungle. The foliage is too thick and the low ground clearance will get the tanks tangled!"
"Bah! Armor pukes are all the same! Get out of my way!"
The War Dog stomped around the line of tanks, followed by five more Mechs. It was not hard to stay on Donovan's trail, just by following the smashed-through path that the big 85-tonner had created. The heat from the assault Mech's continuous movement started to make it hard to breathe. The coolant vests that MechWarriors wore pumped fresh coolant through small plastic tubing sewn into the vest. It was to keep a MechWarrior 'cool under fire' and movement. The more activity a MechWarrior put a Mech through, the more excess heat its fusion-powered engine produced. Overheating and passing out have killed many MechWarriors, making for an easy, non-moving target. Donovan was approaching that point, by keeping his Mech at full throttle, smashing trees and anything else in his path, out of the way. His heat indicator was in the upper half of the yellow zone, inching closer and closer to the red. Donovan would have to slow down or risk overheating. As a safety mechanism in most Mechs, an automatic shutdown would occur, if the Mech's heat reached a certain point.
He had no choice. Donovan slowly pulled back on his throttle. Suddenly, a shot to the back of the Stalker, where the left shoulder-blade on a human would be, made Donovan's Mech stumble and slam into a large Red Pine. If not for that 200 year-old tree, the 85-tonner would have went nose-first into the ground. The tree snapped like a toothpick, as the Mech bounced off it, when Donovan was able to regain his footing. Donovan turned to face the Mobile Fire Mechs, as the War Dog and Guillotine separated from the rest and continued forward.
"Looks like this is the end of the line, MacAllister. It's a shame it has to end like this. We could have used a pilot with your skills."
"What the hell?" Donovan mumbled to himself, as he recognized the Guillotine's weapons layout.
That of a Free Worlds League-made, police Mech.
He sent a closed-beam transmission directly to the Guillotine, "Sheraton, that you?"
Suddenly, lasers flew in from the left side, perforating the War Dog up and down as melted goblets of armor splashed away, "Chaaaarge!"
Donovan immediately recognized the voice, "Randy, what are you doing! Get the hell out of here!"
"Sorry, Boss, can't do it! I got something on my tail that won't break free. I would advise you to get the hell out of here!"
Without stopping its stride, the little Cicada smashed through a last clump of jungle brush, before slamming straight into the Mobile Fire commander's Mech. What remained of the police Mech shattered to the ground in a sickening crunch of metal. The Guillotine poured fire into it, destroying both of the smaller Mech's legs in the process. With the Mech down, it turned its guns on the cockpit, melting the head assembly to slag within seconds. Donovan started back-pedaling, but his heat sensors picked up more in-coming targets. He switched his sensors to visual, then saw them. It started with a slight rustling of the foliage. Then something jumped out of the brush onto the War Dog. Donovan instantly recognized it.
Super-Velociraptor!
Then two more jumped out, bounding for the Guillotine. At least six more jumped out, making a raging beeline, for the other mercenary Mechs. Donovan's eyes bugged out, as he realized what was going on. Randy must have run into the nest! If Randy had had anything in the heavy to assault class of Mech, he would have been overwhelmed. Knowing they were vastly outnumbered he lead them back to the mercenaries to try to take them out. He watched, almost frozen, as the animals starting clawing at the armor, trying to 'kill' the Mechs. A few of the SVR's made it to the head assemblies, and were ripping into the light head armor, trying to get to the human pilots inside. As more Super-Velociraptors jumped from the jungle, Donovan frantically hit every button and trigger, trying to keep the SVR's away from him, and turn his heavy ride back around, to get the hell out of Dodge. As he looked out of his screen, trying to get a visual bearing, a 4-fingered claw swung up, puncturing the viewscreen, and sending shards into Donovan's helmeted face. Spider-web cracks lanced out from the hole, as Donovan fumbled for his personal sidearm. As the SVR latched to the front of Donovan's Mech withdrew its claw, more of the shattered screen broke away. At the same time the SVR showed its face, it opened its stiletto-ringed mandibles, determined to get its jaws around Donovan's neck.
Donovan pushed himself as far back into his pilot's chair, as he could go, as he brought his pulse laser pistol to bear. Donovan fired three times in rapid succession, down the creature's throat, before it stopped its advance into the Mech's cockpit. He fired twice more, point-blank, into the creature's head, before it dropped the three stories to the ground. Donovan slammed his throttle forward, stepping on the SVR, as his Mech picked up speed, smashing into more Red Pines along the way. Donovan left the grizzly scene, as Mechs flailed madly, trying to fight the creatures back, as errant lasers and autocannon rounds flew in all directions, with a few wild shots exploding trees and catching others on fire. |
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